


Impetus

by CaelumLapis



Category: Smallville
Genre: Gen, Spoilers: General and specific for all episodes up to Season Four’s Onyx.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 08:41:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24846964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaelumLapis/pseuds/CaelumLapis
Summary: That moment when everything has changed and yet stays the same.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	Impetus

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer is, I don’t own them, not even a little.

The wine cellar is empty. Lex walks between the shelves, the once rich scent of their occupants now musty and faded. He does not come here. 

Hasn’t. Not in a long time. 

Not since he stared himself in the face and _felt_. Fear. A promise. Both, and neither. 

He had to come back, if only to examine the empty room. To see those traces of himself, the chained and the unchained. He had the mask melted down, yawning obscenely into liquid metal as he watched. Cooled into a ring he often wears on his left hand. A simple design, holding the dark green of a simpler stone. A far less gaudy reminder that he knows more now. Understands more. 

He has heard the rumors and seen the source of them. The discussions among the city and its elite at private parties and public outings. A man in primary colors, soaring between the clouds. The end of an era of humanity policing itself. Now this _creature_ will do it for them. Govern Metropolis and her affairs. 

Lex hates him. Hates the crest on his chest, the blindingly bright colors of his attire. The utter righteousness when he speaks and the cameras flock to record it. The smug set of his eyes and clench of his jaw. That Lex’s fellow men and women cannot see what he sees is what turns dislike into hatred. They are blinded by promises, by a creature that looks enough like them to trick them into complacency. 

He is the puppet of an empire, or an empire for which others will become pulled by their strings. Lex is not fond of either possibility. 

_“Think about it, Clark. My intellect, your powers. Together we could rule this world. We’ll walk as gods among men.”_

_“You’re not a god. I’m not even sure you’re human.”_

_“Are you?”_

Metal rings protrude from the floor, braced by plates of rusted steel. Lex crouches and brushes a finger over them. Fragments of rust cling to his fingertip. He can almost smell the sweat that lingers here, tainted by fear. A phantom memory. Before he understood what he feared. Before he faced it.

_“Every man has a weakness, Clark, no matter how superhuman he may be. I’ve embraced my destiny. Now embrace yours. We could forge a new future together.”_

_“I’ll never join you.”_

Lex traces the lines of the metal with his fingertips. Follows the curve, dips into the arch. The rust is drawn to him, coating his finger. People are not so different. They need only a symbol to draw them in, to pull them together. An impetus to action. Lex raises his hand, studying the ruddy stain over his finger. 

“Lex?” Clark’s voice is hesitant. Lex wonders how many members of his security staff are currently unconscious. Wonders when Clark will realize that Lex does not need primary colors to hide who he is, but knows that Clark does. Wonders what the excuse will be this time. Adrenaline. A term paper. Junk mail. A confused expression. 

Lex narrows his eyes, examining the rust for a moment longer. Clark is silent, but Lex can feel him occupying the room. It feels-

Inevitable.

That moment when everything has changed and yet stays the same. When perception has shifted and the image is different to you, but has not itself changed. He has not seen Clark in years, only an alien from a distance. A strange and meek reporter with a notepad and an agenda. Both of them battling Lex in different arenas. Clark has finally learned the fine art of multitasking. Lex would be proud, but it serves him better to be disgusted. He has had time to think. Time to cross so many lines. He pushes up to stand, and turns. 

The ring is in Metropolis. Lex’s finger itches without it. 

Clark looks the same. And he doesn’t. It is easier to see the alien now. To see the irony. That Clark’s goal in life is to be common, and Lex lives to be extraordinary. Clark is still, watching him. Silent and unmoving. 

Lex stands motionless as well. Clark has not yet become able to hide his thoughts, and Lex can see them in his eyes. What he wants. What he needs. 

Absolution. Not to be responsible for this, for Lex, for the lines that have been crossed. 

Lex was not the only one crossing them. 

He is moving before he understands why, crossing the room. Scenting the fear in Clark’s eyes, the stiffness in his stance. I know, Lex wants to say. Low and dangerous, the burn in his throat that keeps it down. Keeps it silent. I know. 

A wary silence fills the air between them, lurking in Clark’s eyes and curling in Lex’s stomach. Lex is close enough to see where the green blurs to black in Clark’s eyes. Where the fear resides. He does not look away.

Clark does. First his eyes move, and then his face. To the side. Away. Lex leans in, breathes the air that chokes up from Clark’s throat, the tiny change in the space between their mouths. 

“You began this,” Lex murmurs. It is accepted in the whisper of Clark’s lashes against his cheek, the silence of his closed eyes. Lex finishes the sentence with a kiss, soft and slow. 

When he pulls back, Clark’s mouth is still open, his lips flushed. 

“I was expecting the other one,” Lex confides in a whisper to Clark’s mouth. When Clark’s eyes open in a rush of green alarm, Lex is in motion. 

Walking away.


End file.
